She had found herself a place in the apartments. It was empty. No personality and with only the basic of things added by her. It was hard to tolerate but where else was she supposed to go? She had seen people arriving, she had seen so many people who had gotten tossed back in time and they had always made it seem easy. But it wasn't. Some of the people might still be here but this wasn't her life. Not that she necessarily wanted to go back to it. Her mother was here. But was it really her mother? Tommy didn't even remember her. Tommy! And neither would her family.
What she needed was booze. It eased everything. Thoughts were easier and so was sleep. She swung open the door to the pub. While Mitchell in her time, would refuse to serve her anything but light alcohol and that only in small amounts, this one did not know her real age and she would be damned to give it to him. From now on, she would be 18, no, 19 - less suspicious: everyone who lied about their age would say 18. Pretending to be of age would lead to a lot less questions.
She slid onto one of the bar chairs and started shaking out the snow of her blond mane and woolen scarf. It was good to be inside. "Hey, can I have a screwdriver?" she asked.
Mitchell quirked an eyebrow from behind the bar. "You old enough, kid?"
"Yeah, 19," she said. There was the lie as easy and casual as anything.
"Kay," the vampire said and started his job. "Anything for you, Bond?" Isa froze. At first, she felt talked to. She felt exposed. He sometimes called her that too. But that wasn't it. His gaze did not go into her direction, it landed on the person next to her. She turned her head to the side and there he sat. Through all the snow and hair, she hadn't recognised him. He was younger but so much the same that it was slightly disturbing. Isa couldn't help but gape at him.